Just This Once
by misti4492
Summary: Jessica would rather forget the events following her dealings with Kilgrave. No matter what people said, she was no hero. Taking on this new case didn't change that, either.
1. Chapter 1

Evil triumph when no one steps up to stop it, or at least that's what Malcolm kept telling me. Before Kilgrave, I probably would have agreed. Probably.

"Alias Investigations, how may we help?"

Even from beyond the grave, he still tormented me. Those glazed eyes followed me at every step with that snapping sound echoing through my memories.

"When did the incident happen?"

As hard as I tried to not give a fuck, convince myself that it was the only option—

"Okay, hold on a sec."

-I still killed another person.

"Jessica—"

"No," I interrupted, slamming the glass down as I glowered at my too virtuous neighbor.

"Come on, just try, just this once."

"I said no, Malcolm," I grumbled as I reached again for the half-emptied bottle of Winston, tipping its contents into my cup until it was filled to the brim. Then I knocked the glass back, enjoying the way the smooth burn traveled from gullet to belly. "Now would you stop answering my phone? I don't need a goddamn secretary."

"Your full voice mail would say otherwise," Malcolm grumbled as he folded his arms across his chest and matched my glare with an even stare. My self-proclaimed friend had long since grown immune to my attitude, so it seems. When his features softened, oozing out that disgusting pity, I knew enough was enough.

Before he could add more, I sighed, looking away with a mumbled, "How many times do I have to tell you I'm not a hero? The faster these poor bastards figure it out, the better. I'm a PI. They need someone to save them, go to the cops."

"So, you'll rather follow cheaters than save an innocent woman from abuse?"

"Yep," I growled, distracted when my phone alerted me of an incoming text. Reaching for the cell, I glanced at the message, reading it quick and appreciating the excuse it gave me to wheedle away from this familiar conversation. Giving him the sweetest most fake smile I could, I added, "And would you look at that! I got a case—" liar "—still want to be my secretary? Call her and tell her no, I'm busy."

I scooted the chair back, downing the rest of my drink before striding away to the couch and snatching my jacket. Slipping my arms through the sleeves, I gestured Malcolm towards the door then followed him out, ignoring his annoyed grumblings while I reached my hand through the shattered window to lock the door. I hadn't cared to fix the glass since the incident with Simpson. Between murdering psychopaths and dying friends, it wasn't exactly high on my priority lists. It could stay broken, if only to save me the money.

"Seriously, Jessica, with your skills and gift, do you know how many people you can help?" Malcolm asked, standing by his apartment with one hand on the doorknob. I felt his eyes bore into my back as I traversed past him and down the hall.

"Like I helped Hope and Ruben," I snorted as I slammed a fist against the elevator button. "Sorry, but I don't plan to run around half naked with the American flag slapped across my chest."

* * *

I watched people sway around me, wondering about their personal lives and the reasons behind their aimless stares. Curled up as I was against the window, I let my own gaze wander towards the window, watching the walls speed past the rattling train. As I eyed a long piece of pipe, an image of five figures appeared before me, each one with a noose resting around their necks. Time seemed to slow before those accusing eyes. Then, in unison, they took a single step forward, stepping off the ledge to dangle from their necks with a sickening snap. They hung there, squirming, but their eyes… those eyes. So full of accusation, souring to despair, and finally hopelessness.

I tried to scramble away, slamming my hand against my ears, only to succeed in falling out of the hard plastic bench. Ignoring the curious stares, and lifted myself back into my seat. The images ended as abruptly as it began, leaving me shaking with heart pounding a vicious beat against my chest. Out of habit, names sprung to the forefront of my mind as I muttered them in a strangled whisper, "Main Street. Birch Street. Higgins Drive…"

Taking in a deep breath, I exhaled slowly, waiting as my heart's tempo slowed down and the fear eased. "Cobalt Lane."

With Kilgrave dead, I found it easier to calm myself. He was no longer out to get me, hidden behind every dark corner of the city to drag me into a living hell. It was over, but that still didn't stop the flashbacks from rearing their ugly heads. Now, his victims haunted me, triggered by the smallest of reminders. Same damn mental bullshit, different nightmares.

I got up from my seat, hearing as the intercom announced the next stop. Following behind a few people, I disembarked the train and made for the stairs, climbing out and back onto the gritty streets of the city. Being the first time visiting this place, it took me some time to spot the establishment, sitting on the corner a block away. With the painted letters and neon lights that adorned the windows, Josie's Bar was easy to identify. Personally, the place look like a shithole, a shittier one than the last bar Luke worked in. Then again, a job was a job and Luke couldn't exactly work at a bar he blew up, curtsey of Kilgrave's dickish ways.

Stepping through the door, I made my way to the bar after spying the hulking man behind the counter. Luke hadn't noticed my entrance, too busy becoming an enabler for a local alcoholic. Sauntering over, I grabbed and swung onto a stool, leaning back and tapping my fingers along the counter as I waited for Luke to spot me. It didn't take long.

Snatching a bottle of some whiskey I couldn't catch the name of, he poured a generous amount into a glass before passing it to me. With a small nod of thanks, I cradled it in my hands before I took in a long drink, eyeing Luke from around the glass. Setting my drink down, I remained quiet, lifting my brows in a silent question as to the reason behind his urgent text message. My initial survey of the room revealed no threat, only that the patrons of this Hell's Kitchen bar was of the usual scum found in this decrepit area. Nothing that someone with Luke's unique skillset couldn't handle.

"Didn't think you would come," Luke began, taking out a rag to wipe down the bar's surface.

"Believe it or not, I'm not as big of a piece of shit as most seem to think." Luke grimaced at my choice of words. Letting out a small sigh, I shoved aside any more harsh words as I asked, "So what's with the SOS? Seemed urgent."

"It is, but not about me," he answered, causing me to furrow my brow. The whole _Help, please hurry_ message followed by the address to his current place of work had me assuming the worst. Someone attacking this bar, maybe even people who had witnessed his impenetrable skin during our brief stint at the hospital. "It's her."

I followed his pointing finger, spotting the girl that sat alone, nursing a bottle of beer. Noting her haggard appearance, I turned back to Luke. "Have you been talking to Malcolm? Listen, I'm not Mother Theresa, ready to take in every little shit with a sob story—"

"But you still need to make a living. She needs you to find someone. I'm only asking 'cause the new boss, Josie, seems to give a damn about her little group. You're probably the best in the business and, like I said, you need the money."

"Like hell I do," I grumbled as I gulped the rest of the drink and slammed it onto the counter. He's lucky I didn't shatter the glass, though it was still tempting. Swinging off the barstool, I sized up the potential client with a critical eye. What I saw made me shiver.

She reminds me too much of Hope Schlotman towards the end of her life. Desperate and scared, yet a hint of determination that I knew meant that she will not shirk from the most extreme decision if it meant not becoming someone's plaything. Hope's suicide had since been frequent feature for my waking nightmares. Long blonde hair hung about her head, pushed back behind an ear to reveal a somber face. Her eyes were rimmed red from tears and her loose jacket failed to hide the bruising that wrapped around her wrist as she took a swig of her liquid comfort. Personally, I didn't want anything to do with this girl's problems, but Luke's right and it's better than taking one of Malcolm's suggestion or following another cheater.

"Just this once," I growled, hating that Hope's memory for making me do this, "but don't you dare tell Malcolm about this."

I left the bar to approach this girl. Confusion took over her face when I dropped into the seat across from her, slouching back, feet firm on the ground, legs apart, and arms crossed in a perfect I-don't-give-a-fuck pose. I pride myself in not giving a rat's ass about pity stories, in my line of work it helped to look and act the part. It made it easier for me, especially if I needed to throw another blubbering idiot through my front door. I had to say, though, I was mildly impressed by the way the girl composed herself after the initial surprise. Quick to school her expression, tucking away her trepidation to give me her own leveled look, she took another drink before speaking.

"May I help you?"

Good, but not great. I could still catch the trembling in her voice. "No, that'll be my question according to my friend over there." I nodded my head towards Luke, seeing the girl's mouth open in a small 'o' before she turned back to me.

"You're Jessica Jones."

"The one and only, thank god. Personally, I don't conduct business outside my office, professional image and all that shit, so if you want to hire me I suggest you come on by instead of having Luke bring me out under false pretenses. I'll tell him to give you my number."

And with that, I hauled my ass out of the chair, making for the door and only to be stopped by a gentle but firm hand around my wrist. I yanked my arm away, spinning around in annoyance as I took a step back to give myself some distance. The girl stood up, meeting me straight in the eye as she kept her chin up. That frightened girl didn't exist, replaced by this confident woman who projected a stubbornness I knew was going to be annoying.

"As far as I can tell, neither of us are busy. I'll be happy to follow you to your office to discuss my case in depth."

"And how do you know I'm not busy," I growled back.

"Because you wouldn't be drinking at ten in the morning."

I sighed, pinching my nose before throwing out my hands. "Okay, fine, let's go. But just so you know, I'm always drinking, on or off the job."

* * *

"Welcome to Alias Investigations, how may I serve you," I drawled.

The trip back from Josie's bar was uneventful, with the both of us keeping to ourselves. The confident woman soon disappeared, replaced by the girl I observed before. This time, I spotted paranoia. With every step we took, she glanced over her shoulders, as if searching the shadows for the devil himself. First impression told me I'm going to be dealing with a stalker, second and third told me that was bullshit. Luke mentioned a group, most likely friends, involved in this—whatever this was. If that was the case, this girl drank because of them. Unless you were an alcoholic or a professional drinker like me, alcohol before noon was used to forget troubles.

I ambled across the room, ignoring her curious looks at my ill-fated door to gesture for her to take a seat. Twisting around the desk, I dropped into my chair, throwing up my legs onto the desk as I reach back for the bottle of Teacher's perched on the window sill behind. Knocking the drinking back, I offered her the bottle then shrugged and took another long draught after she shook her head. From the corner of my eyes, I watched her judge my living space turned office, waiting for the usual questions. However, she made no comment or question about the shithole I called a home.

"I—" the girl finally spoke, hesitating before clearing her throat and trying again. "I don't know where to start."

"Try the beginning, why you need a PI or—you know—a name would be nice."

"Y-yeah," she stuttered, swiping a loose lock of hair back behind her ears. "I'm Karen Page and I need help finding a friend of mine."

I waved the bottle for her to go on. She had my attention, for now. But if she kept on drawing this out, I'm half of mind to kick her out to the curb.

"We were out for drinks last night, me and two of my friends. Technically my bosses, but they don't act like that. They're lawyers and we were out celebrating after nailing a really difficult case, i-t's been a long week," she chuckled, though it lacked humor, "we were really letting loose. Drank too much, even Josie was ready to cut us off, but it was the first tough one we had since… a couple of months ago and we really wanted a break.

"Anyways, there we were drunk and swaying on the sidewalk, trying to hail a cab and—I don't know what happened, it was all a blur. One second we were laughing and the next we were surrounded. One of them tried to grab me, but Matt—one of my friends—hit him with his cane—" she gestured at her bruised wrist "—they were trying to drag me to a van while the others beat up Foggy, my other friend. I don't know how Matt was able to break away from the one guy they had on him, but he managed to piss off the guy who tried to grab me. I fell by that point—I think Foggy was unconscious—and I tried to get up to help Matt. They had knocked him down and then they-they—just laid into him, hitting him over and over again. I tried to stop them, but one of them kept me pinned.

"It felt like forever," Karen whispered, the trembling returning though she tried to steady her hands in a tight clasp against her lap. Tears shined in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "They threw him in the van and drove off, left me in the middle of Hell's Kitchen with an unconscious Foggy."

I slid my feet off the desk, leaning forward to rest my elbow against the desk and steeple my fingers. Something about this wasn't adding up. "Do you know who they were or what they wanted? I find it weird that a bunch of assholes would try to grab you then suddenly switch target because your friend pissed them off."

"My guess it has something to do with our most recent case," she said, though she refused to add more—there was hesitance in the way she glanced away. "As for why they took Matt, I assume it was the same reason they try to take me: they needed a victim. Guess they figured the blind guy was just as good of a hostage." Then she straightened up in her seat, "I want to hire you to help me find my friend and the evidence to take these bastards down."

I regarded her for a second, taking in the new information as I thought over the challenge. A missing blind guy and vengeful assholes. Sounded like an interesting one at least, though I would prefer not to get involved. It sounded too much like trying to be the hero I know I'm not. Couldn't be a hero after all the shit I did; Heroes weren't murderers. Still, I had a feeling that if I didn't agree to take on her request, she was going to go ahead and try to save her friend herself. Another victim to join my already too-burdened conscience. And she reminded me too damn much of Hope. Vastly different cases but… Karen was another corpse in the making.

"So you know, I don't come cheap. Hourly, plus expenses. I need access to everything you have on this last case your lawyer buddies got involved in—especially if you suspect this is connected—as well as anything about you people that can potentially explain why you were targeted—and I mean an _ything_. I've seen plenty of shit to care about your dirty secrets."

Karen smiled, her first genuine smile since I spotted her at Josie's. With an extended hand, she replied, "Deal."

I ignored her proffered hand and slapped a contract down for her, "Fill this out, and just so you know, I work alone. So there's no we in this. Only me."

Try as she might, I still caught the snort as she nodded her head. I had a feeling I'm going to regret taking this case. Yep, definitely going to regret. I already spotted Malcolm's shit eating grin after he snuck a peak at my new client, right through my broken door.

Ah, well, fuck it. Just this once I'll help the damned.

* * *

 **AN: A little idea I had of how to bring Jessica Jones and Daredevil together. Watched those shows back to back and wrote this soon after. Figured to post here instead of letting it sit on my computer for who knows how long. I may continue this story, but for now it'll remain a one-shot.**

 **Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Trigger Warning.**

* * *

If the only crime is pride, then these lawyer buddies of Karen trampled all over it. Matthew Murdock and Franklin Nelson, Columbia University graduates. Interns for Landman and Zack, now they run their own law firm: Nelson and Murdock. Bleeding hearts too. They took the cases a greedy shark like Hogarth wouldn't touch. Only one particular case caught my attention. Carl Hoffman. Big case for a small firm. If their last case wasn't the reason, taking down a crime lord like Wilson Fisk would be my next guess.

I drummed my fingers against my knee, glancing up from my phone to the girl next to me. We're in a cab, extra cost to save precious time. Kidnapping cases tend to go to shit the longer the victim had been missing and according to my new friend here, Matt Murdock had been gone for about twelve hours. I hate working under pressure, but I knew what I was getting into with this one. We were heading straight for Metro-General Hospital, check on Foggy, see if he could shed some light in this fucked up case of theirs. Shit, I don't want to go back there…

Karen Page had since calmed down after signing the contract. Some false comfort, I'm half tempted to tell her how Hope and her folks ended up six fucken feet under. Instead, I returned to another news article on my phone, drawing out my flask to take a quick swig. No comment, not even a judgmental glance from Karen. Good.

The cab pulled up to the hospital, I stepped out and went ahead to the hospital, waiting with arms crossed and a bored face as Karen paid the driver. Maintaining this nonchalance look was essential. The more I believed it, the more I could ignore the crowd. It felt like dozens of eyes watching me as we stepped into the building, Karen walking ahead to speak to the receptionist while I kept my arms tensed against my chest. From the corner of my eyes, I thought I spotted someone rushing me, causing me to twist around and drop my arms into fists. Heart thudded in my chest because some damn nurse and a wheelchair bound, senile man. I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my jacket, forcing myself to relax even as I could imagine the screams for my blood.

"Let's go?" Karen asked, interrupting my reluctant reminiscent.

"Yeah," I responded, gesturing for her to lead the way as I slunk after her.

One elevator trip up, down a hall, and around the corner, we stepped into room of one Franklin Nelson. The man was on the heavier side, blond hair a sad mess around a face painted with the blacks and blues of bruises and an IV bag dripping along beside him. The florescent lighting made him look like crap, casting his bruised face in sharp shadows as he watched the TV with rapt attention. I glanced at the screen, recognizing a local news station.

"Hey there," he rasped when he noticed us at the doorway, muting the television. He gave Karen a warm smile. "Glad to see you came out of all that unscathed."

"Relatively," the girl smiled, forced, as she lifted her bruised wrist up.

"Could be worse. These doctors over exaggerate. Just give me a bottle whiskey and a day of sleep and I'll be as good as new. Anyways, how's Matt? I haven't been able to reach him since I woke up."

Karen glanced away, hands clenching. Before she could respond, I decided to make my presence known, maneuvering around the girl while speaking out, "That's what I'm here for. Jessica Jones, PI, here about that friend of yours."

Foggy sized me up, suspicion reflecting across what I assumed to be a normally jovial face. It seemed like Karen's 'lawyer friend had some secrets based on that guarded look. Let's see if it's something that I could use to finish this case quickly.

"Why, what's wrong with him, what are you investigating?"

Definitely knows something.

I leaned back, folding my arms across my chest and gave him my best no-bullshit stare, "How about the fact that your blind friend got nabbed off the streets last night, I find that pretty important to look into."

A series of emotions—surprise, confusion, fear—passed through his face before he glanced away. In a whisper, "He's… missing?"

This guy was hiding something, and you didn't need to be a PI to sniff that out. I narrowed my eyes into a glare, "Bullshitting me isn't going to help Matt—" Foggy flinched, Karen stared at me confused "—so I suggest you play nice and answer my questions. Do you know who and why you guys were attacked yesterday?"

"Hell if I know—"

"I said no bullshitting," I growled, striding forward and slamming a fist into the wall above and to the side of Foggy's bed, enough to leave a dent into the wall, "and I'm damn good at sniffing out a liar."

Foggy slumped, like a marionette getting his strings cut though he grumbled under his breath, "Another freaking lie detector…"

"Excuse me?"

He waved his hand towards me, snorting in a sad attempt to hide the trembling in his voice, "Nothing, just… Matt's pretty good at catching onto lies. I—it's hard to imagine anything bad happening to him." Karen moved to the chair on the other side of the bed, reaching a hand over to his. Her eyes shone with tears though she looked to Jessica to continue.

I was still caught up by his words. Interesting thing for him to say about someone with a tragic childhood. Blind and orphaned, according to my good friend Google, not a person I could say avoids the world crapping on him.

"Karen here believes this is connected to your last case, with Natalia Maduro. Care to expand on that?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," he shrugged. "We were up against one of the biggest local gang since Wilson Fisk's arrest. Twenty-two years old girls like her deserved some goddamn justice."

"How did she find you?"

"Referred to us. She couldn't afford any big shot lawyer and karma would be one hell of a bitch if we refused to help a girl after going through the shit she did."

"What was that exactly?"

"Those bastards were selling her at some sleazy hotel. Drugged her up and tied her down so any asshole could have their way for an hourly fee," Foggy spat. "They made bank on her and all the other girls and they were ready to spend a fortune on the best lawyers to slander her as some sort of loose woman. Like sleeping around warrants being forced into human trafficking."

"I would think having one of the victims would make it an easy win."

"Yeah, well they cleared out that hotel before the cops showed up. They found plenty of evidence of the human trafficking, but circumstantial at best that linked Mason Palmer—the head of this particular group of scum—to the crime scene."

"Then what did?"

"Dante Christos, a close friend of Mason's, testified against him and other key gang members as well as told the cops of another hotel. They managed to pull twelve girls out of there, and all of them testified as witnesses."

"He testified? Why?"

Foggy shrugged, though I noted the telltale signs of a lie. Could this be the reason for the attack?

"So what would they gain from you by taking someone like Matt? Did one of you do something specific to piss them off?" I pressed further, keeping a close eye on the man.

"Aside from represent Natalia in court, I can't think of anything I did to warrant this," he shook his head, gesturing to himself in the hospital bed.

"And Matt?"

"Nothing that I'm aware of."

Another shrug, but this time his eyes flickered away and hands fiddled with the bedsheet. He was lying, again, but this time I held back the accusation. Something told me it was a lost cause, a secret worth risking Murdock's life to keep. There was more ways to figure that shit out, easier than needling Foggy for it. Besides, the why for the attack was far less important than the where. Though I was curious on what exactly a blind man could do to piss off a local gang.

"Thanks for answering the questions," I said with a nod, then turned to Karen right as she began to stand up, "And this is where we split."

"No, I'm coming with," she said.

"Not if you want me to stay on this case. Working alone is one of my requirements, take it or leave it. Besides, things might get a little… messy."

"Hey, it's okay," Foggy spoke up to Karen even as the blonde glowered at me. He gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand. "Let her do the job you hired her for, I'm sure she could handle it. Plus, it's incredibly boring here, and there's nothing on but some weird Spanish soap. Would love the translator."

Karen looked between me and Foggy before finally letting out a sigh and sinking into the chair. I turned back to the door, not caring about their continued conversation as I walked out the room.

* * *

I stepped into the small apartment, maneuvering around the mountains of junk to reach the battered table and perch myself onto the chair. This place was a shithole with the cracked ceiling and peeling wallpaper, but I kept my opinions to myself as the girl sat across from me. Natalia Maduro appeared every bit as haunted as I thought she would. Her hair was a tangled mess of brown tresses, held up in a ponytail so as to give her an excuse to not give a shit. Dark circles left smudges beneath her sunken eyes. Pulling the falling strap of her loose dress back onto her shoulder, she folded her hands on the table and regarded her in silence.

"I'm sorry to bother you today," I began, staring down at my own interwoven fingers. I was going to be asking this girl to revisit hell just asking her these damn questions.

"I-It's fine," she said quietly. "Matt and Foggy did so much to help me, it wouldn't be right for me not to help in any way I can."

I nodded then pushed on, "Anything you could remember about these guys will help. Anyone who may take over after the arrests were made?"

Natalia nodded, reaching a hand to her throat. "Mason really liked Latinas. I don't remember much, but I remember him. He had a special room reserved from him where—"

She shook her head, glaring down at her white knuckles with too bright eyes, "He didn't like when we were drugged—he liked to hear us s-scream—but I remember that room the most. Occasionally he had some of his friends… join in. There were two, one was Dante. I re-recognized him from the trial, but there was a second man. I think it was his brother. I should have said something, I know I should have, but I just wanted it all over. I was so tried, I _am_ so tired of it and I-and I—"

"Hey, it's okay," I said, keeping my voice low and my movements slow as I offered her a hand of comfort across the table. The hand that had since tightened around her throat loosened and fell to the table, and after a second of hesitating, she took my hand gratefully. Her grip screamed for comfort.

Sniffing, using her free hand to rub at her eyes, Natalia nodded. "I remember that brother of Dante's ordering people around, wish I could give a name."

"No, this is plenty, thank you for the help," I smiled, giving her hand a soft squeeze before getting up. She escorted me to the door, bidding a quiet goodbye while sliding the door closed.

I shot a hand out, stopping from the door from shutting completely.

"It'll never go away, but it does get better, enough to make living manageable. Don't ever let those bastard rule the rest of your life, monster like them are never worth the thought."

* * *

 **AN: Think I'll continue this. It won't leave my head and it's a nice break on some of my other projects. These chapters are going to be kept short, makes it more manageable to keep up with. I can't promise when there'll be another update though.**

 **Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and review the last chapter. I really appreciate it!**

 **Until next time.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Trigger Warning**

* * *

Some people seemed to get all sunshine, others get all shadows, and I'm unfortunate enough to be the latter. Fitting since I spent much of my time in the darkness, skulking along with the other degenerates. The metal scaffolding of a fire escape became much too comfortable for the amount of times I've done these stakeouts, curled up with one eye on my target and one on a crossword. The night had long since arrived and the assholes of Hell's Kitchen were on the prowl.

The day was spent hunting down and gleaning information in the good old fashion way of googling and bullshiting. One thing about crime lords, no matter how much they try to stay out of the spotlight, there was always something I could dig up about them. Dimitri Christos may be a charming and successful businessman, but had one hell of a violent history according to a police report from his youthful twenties. Being born into money kept him from prison, lucky him. Combining criminal charges and his ownership of several hotels, and I had one hell of a lead to finding Karen's missing lawyer, especially when my target of the day led me from some posh five star hotel to a sleazy place like the Nymph's Hotel. Creep needed a better imagination that was for sure.

The black sedan rolled up the front of the hotel, catching my attention as Dimitri stepped out, brushing aside nonexistent dirt from his sleeves. Pretentious prick was practically wearing money with that expensive slacks and jacket getup. He would have been mugged had it not been for the pistol handle poking out from under his jacket or that giant of a man walking at his heels. He and his lackey stepped to the hotel's doors without hesitation, slipping inside without the fanfare I saw when he made to do business in his previous establishment. A quick phone call to his naïve secretary at the time was all I needed to know about his visit to Nymph's and plenty of time to get here while he worked.

I folded the puzzle and jammed it into my pocket, sliding down the fire escape as quietly and quickly as possible. Landing on the ground, I ruffled my hair into a tangled mess, opened my jacket to reveal the V-neck beneath, then took a deep swig of the alcohol from my flask. If this hotel was what I suspected it to be, then the best way in would be to look like one of their many victims. As far as they knew, I was just some drunk ass girl looking for a place to crash, exposed and vulnerable to any slimy shithead that I would be unfortunate enough to meet.

Sliding out from the alley, I allowed myself to sway, purposefully angling my boots into a perfect stumbling act. Stretching my mouth into a goofy grin, I crashed into the door, taking a few seconds to fumble with the handle before swinging the door wide and tripping inside. Swerving left and right, I managed to land the top half of my body on the front desk, peering up at the hulking man of a receptionist with the biggest shit-eating grin I could manage.

"Hey there," I slurred my words, making sure to slap my flask in front of me against the counter, "Got any—"I let out a long belch just to drive home the point "—room for me, heh."

The receptionist raised his brow on me, disapproval and disgust clear in those brown eyes. Any other day I would tell him to fuck off, but tonight I ignored it with batting eyelashes and a widening smile.

"I'm sure we have plenty of room for a… lady like you," he said with a smirk, reaching for the phone on the desk.

"Awesome," I giggled before squirming left and right in a little dance and giving him my best pathetic, drunk girl doe eyes. "How much do I owe you?"

"Free of charge. Can't let a girl like you run out in your condition. Go ahead and wait over there and I'll send someone to help you get settled in."

"Oh, thank you! You're such a sweet heart," I purred, letting out another belch. Then I shoved away from the counter and made for the group of cheap plastic chairs set aside for waiting customers.

Slumping into the seat, I allowed my head to loll to the side, giving me a perfect view of the scumbag receptionist. What a load of shit these people were, pretending to give a damn so that they could take advantage of girls who were either too stupid, naïve, or fucked up to know better. By the end of the night, I had a feeling that the lawyer wasn't going to be the only one I try to bust out of here. Fucken great.

I stared at the receptionist as he murmured into the phone, watching me with a predatory gaze and slimy smile. I turned my attention away and towards the lobby. It was just as gross, with cracked tiled floors, leaking ceilings, stained walls, and the sounds of rodents scuttling around out of sight. Even the plastic chair beneath me, with its sickly orange padding, made me want to burn my clothes and shower in scalding water once this was over. After burning this shit hole to the ground of course.

From the hallway down the left of the reception desk another man emerged, as muscled bound as his coworker, the way he eyed me up and down made me want to bash his skull in. Instead, I kept my relaxed form, allowing him to draw closer and reach a grubby hand for my arm.

"Hey-y-y," I smiled, shoving myself up and onto my feet. I took an extra step for balance, flailing my arms around to seem like I was trying to keep balance when in reality It kept the asshole from touching me.

"Good evening, girly," the man smiled, "Your room is all ready for you, come along."

He grabbed me this time, not caring as I tried to struggle out of his grip. Dragging me along, he brought me down the hall and into an old elevator, stepping inside and hitting the button for the fourth floor. I tried to yank my arm from his grasp, using only enough force to make him think I was just some weak little girl to take advantage of. In response, his grip tightened and smile widened as he jerked me to stand in front of him, hands switching so as to allow him to run his fingers down my side. I hoped that was only his gun pressing into me from behind.

"S-Stop," I cried out. It was easy to act nauseated when the feeling was real.

"No whining sweetheart, it ain't going to get you anywhere."

I clenched my eyes shut and gritted my teeth to keep from swinging. Knocking him out here was a bad idea, no matter how much I wanted his paws off my ass. It was a relief when the elevator doors finally opened, revealing a threadbare hallway with rows of doors on either side. The man stopped his groping to shove me forward, frog marching me to the third door on the left. Closing it shut, he threw me onto the queen size bed, falling on top of me and pinning my arms above my head.

Leaning down, his rancid breath overwhelming my senses, he whispered into my ears, "This is how it's going to work, girly. You're our product now. You're going to entertain your guests, do whatever they ask of you, and all that without bitching, got it? Course, you'll need some training," he chuckled, keeping one hand on both my wrists while the other slid down, "and I'll be happy to show you."

"Sure you will, asshole," I snarled, slamming my knee as hard as I could into his crotch.

He let out a strangled gasp as he collapsed, releasing my wrists as I shoved him off and onto the floor. Drawing my jacket tight against me, I shivered for a second when I glanced down at the piece of filth on the floor, giving him a good kick to the rib, satisfied at the resulting cracking sound. Then I reached down, grabbing the gun tucked into his belt and making sure those dazed eyes watched as I bent the muzzle. The man's eyes widened, fear overriding pain as he tried to scramble back. But I didn't give him the chance. Shooting out a hand, I grabbed a good handful of his greasy hair and jerked his head back so that he could get a good look at my pretty pissed off face.

"Much better," I said, flashing him a smile as I continued, "Now, _this_ is how it's going to work, asshole. You answer my question and I don't break every bone in your body."

"Fuck you freak," he spat.

I punched him in the gut. "No thank you, I'm not into scum. Shall we try again?"

The man glowered, "What do you want?"

"How many girls do you have here?"

"I dunno—"

"No lying," I added, giving his head a good shake.

"Like three! That's it, I swear. It's all we got left since that shit went down with Dante and Mason."

"And are they on this floor too."

"N-no, they're Dimitri's girls. They stay in the suite at the top."

"Anyone else you keeping here?"

"No—"

I grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, using that and my grip in his hair to raise him in the air. "Why do I get the feeling that you're lying again."

"I-I'm not l-lying," he gasped, hands grabbing at my wrist as his feet scrambled for the ground. "That's the o-only pr-product here."

"What about someone who isn't one of your _products_?"

"J-Just one, some guy."

"Where?"

"The b-boss's with him t-two floors up, below the top where the s-suite is."

"Thank so much for the help," I said before slamming his head into the nearest walls.

He crumpled to the ground, out cold and another search through the room allowed me to find a pair of handcuffs among other sex paraphernalia in the dresser drawer. I snapped it in place around the guy's wrist, threaded it through the bedframe, then locked it around his other wrist. I then grabbed one of the ball gags, wrapping it around his head as tight as I could make it. With the receptionist thinking this guy was busy having his way with me, there should be plenty of time for me to get those girls and the lawyer and get out before anyone knew any better.

Straightening my clothes and swiping my hair from my face, I fought the urge to take another drink from the flask. When I get out of here, I'm going to get plastered at some bar with Karen footing the bill. She owed me after going through this shit.

I stalked out the room, glancing up and down the hall for anyone I needed to bullshit, but this floor was near empty aside from the two hotel patrons exiting their room. I waited until the couple disappeared into the elevator before pressing the button to summon it myself. As I stood waiting, I considered my options. My gracious host said Dimitri was busy with some guy, the one I suspected to be Matt. If I tried to go after him first, there was no guarantee I could get to the other three girls. And if I tried to help those girls, it may possibly screw Matt over in return. Damnit.

I stepped into the open elevator, slamming a fist against the button for the top floor, glaring at the numbers flashing above the door while the elevator jerked up. I needed to be quick, get these girls out and safe then go straight for Matt.

The elevator doors slid open, showing three doors in a short hallway; two leading to the suites and one for the fire escape. I knocked down the first door, the one closest to the elevator on my left, revealing a small living room ahead and a kitchenette to the left. As I stepped inside, keeping on alert, I searched the room for the three girls. The kitchen and living room was empty, but the hallway to the right was promising. The first door revealed a small bathroom with the basic sink, toilet, and mirror setup. Passing a closet, I went through the door at the end and into the master bedroom beyond where I found the girls.

Two of them sat at a small table against the wall on the opposite end of the room, wrists handcuffed to the armrest of the wooden chairs. The third laid in the bed, another pair of handcuffs connecting one wrist to the metal headboard of the bed, her eyes glazed and staring unfocused on the white walls beyond. Clad in nothing but skimpy tank tops and shorts, all three looked haggard with tired eyes with deep bruises beneath. The two at the table watched her with wide eyes, shrinking into their chairs as if they could melt into the background and out of sight.

I went slow, not wanting to scare them any more than they already were. Approaching, I whispered reassurances while I reached a hand for the first girl, wrapping my fingers on either side of the cuff and wrenching the jaws open. The girl jerked back, knotted hair falling in front of her face as she leaned down to stare at her raw wrist, one hand rubbing at the sore. I moved on to the other two, releasing each of them the same way. Helping the one up on the bed, I tried to snap her out of whatever trance she was in.

"T-They gave her something."

"Well, she's needs to get moving," I said, telling the girl who spoke up. "and you three need to go and take the fire escape out."

"But they're going to come after us," the second whimpered.

"Don't worry, they're going to be distracted with something else."

I shoved the girl from the bed, helping the other two support her before leading them out of the suite. Pushing them through the emergency exit door, I watched them carefully step onto the metal frame outside, shivering when their lack of decent clothing did nothing to protect them from the chill. While the three began to descend, the girl who first spoke stopped and turned around to watch me as I allowed the door to close between us.

"Thank you so, so much," she said seconds before the door slid shut.

I smiled. Then shook my head. I don't need any damn encouragement for this type of shit. This was going to be the last time. No more sob stories, no matter how much the client looked like the ghosts of my past. Hitting the button for the second to last floor, I mentally prepared for the shit show that awaited me.

The doors opened to another hallway and more doors. Only this time I wasn't lucky enough for another empty hallway. There was a huge man, the same one who had entered the hotel earlier with Dimitri, that spotted me from where he stood guarding the first door to my right. I ran forward, swinging my arm at him and flung him into the nearest wall. It was enough to knock him out, his body leaving a nice dent in the wall. With him out, I slammed the door open, knocking it off its hinge to reveal the gutted hotel room beyond. It was cleared of all furniture, leaving only a single metal chair at the center below a naked bulb. Occupying the seat was a figure clad in a rumpled suit, slumped over with head hanging against his chest, a mess of brown hair crusted together with the rusted color of dried blood. His arms was drawn behind him, wrists handcuff together and each leg tied to the chair by rope. My body relaxed, my arms dropping from their ready position and to my sides. I was expecting Dimitri to attack me, not the lawyer I was searching for.

I should have known better than to think it would be this easy.

My leg gave out beneath me, searing pain piercing through my thigh as my ear caught the too loud sound of a gunshot. Vision blurring, I let out a snarl and ignored the pain to push myself back on my feet, twisting around and slinging an arm towards the nearest body. My attack didn't land, not when my whole body stiffened into spasms as thousands of volts of electricity raced through me from the bullshit that was a taser to the chest. I tried to push past the pain again. Didn't work, not when the douchebag hit me twice more, enough to drag me into the world of unconsciousness.

* * *

 **AN: Have another chapter. Matt finally shows up, kinda?**

 **Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed. I appreciate the support!**

 **Until the next update.**


	4. Chapter 4

Pain was either severe or prolonged, and I couldn't help but be grateful for that fact when a certain trigger happy asshole finally let up with the taser. I clawed my way back to consciousness, my vision finally clearing to give me a perfect view of the shit-stained carpet. Then my captor had to be an even bigger dick by shoving a gun to my head, the metal pressing hard against my skull followed by the clacking sound of a cocked gun. More hands reached for my arms, wrenching them back then lifting me to my feet to stand before the biggest tool bag in the room, Dimitri Christos. He stepped up before me, gaze sweeping up and down in a way that made me want to slam a knee between his legs. The smugness didn't make him any less punchable either, brushing aside blond bangs from his face before crossing his arms across his chest.

"See, when I was hearing about someone skulking around for information, I wasn't expecting someone as lovely as you."

"Fuck off," I spat, only to get slapped for my efforts.

"My, what a filthy mouth you have there. You know some guys would pay a pretty penny for a few minutes with you," Dimitri laughed, grabbing a hold of my chin and forcing my head towards him. "Don't get me wrong, sugar, you're not worth a fortune like your friend, but maybe you value your life over his?"

What the hell?

"Who are you talking about, the fucken lawyer?" I glanced at the man in question, happy to see he was still conscious when I noticed his head tilt towards me. Soon as this douche lets up on the gun, I could get us both out. Damn did I wish I had the same impenetrable skin as Luke.

Dimitri snorted, "The lawyer is just a means to an end. Don't play with me girly, protecting that masked asshole isn't going to get you anywhere."

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"Bullshit. If you don't know, then why're you here?" His hand released my chin in favor of my throat, clenching tight and threatening to completely cut off my airway.

"Hired."

"For what?"

"Find. Him," I managed to gasp out, nodding a head towards the bound man in the chair.

Dimitri considered me for a second then he released his grip, snapping at one of his lackeys before turning back to his first prisoner. They shoved me to my knees, my thigh throbbing from the bullet as another man showed up to snap handcuffs around my wrist and tie a rope at my ankles. Pushed fully onto the ground, it was then I realized just how many people had shown up to attack me. From this new angle, I spotted at least eight other men crowding in this room and even more In the hall. All of them were heavily armed between guns, tazers, crowbars, and whatever else was threatening. Even if I managed to throw off the first guy, the others would take me out in an instant. It seemed I ran right into an ambush.

Cracking his neck and knuckles, Dimitri strutted towards the bound lawyer, eyeing him for a moment before lifting his leg and slamming his foot into his prisoner's chest. Matt grunted as the chair tilted backwards and slammed into the ground, his head knocking against the carpet. From where I lay pinned down, I watched Dimitri crouch down with arms resting against his knees as he considered the lawyer.

"You know there's still the option of giving in, no need for sweetheart here to get caught in all this trouble. All you have to do is tell me where to find him."

Matt turned his head away.

"Listen here you blind bastard, he's clearly not coming to save your ass. Seems to me he gives no two shits about saving you. Why protect some ungrateful asshole like that?" Dimitri paused, giving Matt a chance to speak up. When he was met with silence, he sighed, pushing against his knees to help him stand up. "Fine, I'll give you the night to make your decision. I am after all a gracious host. If you don't tell me all you know about the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, then I'll just kill you and this girl here. So, spend the night really thinking: Hey is this Douche-devil _really_ worth our lives?"

The man pinning me grabbed me by the arms and dragged me over to the lawyer at the gesture of Dimitri's hand. The leader stared at me with a sickly sweet smile before he gave me a swift kick to the side. Compared to some of the hits I've taken in the past, his weak attempt hardly hurt. Still, I let out a gasp, pretending the attack came from Luke and not this douchebag.

Slamming his foot down on my chest, Dimitri pressed down with a laughed, "And I'll leave you a friend. Talk to her, get to know her and what you'll be destroying when you sacrifice her life to protect a vigilante."

Another kick, this time to my head. It left me in a daze, but not enough to keep me from realizing everyone was leaving me and the lawyer alone. I listened as the door closed, catching Dimitri order two of his lackeys to stand guard. Much as I wanted to jump to action, I forced myself to wait. I had to make sure they weren't going to make a reappearance. Once I felt it was time, I yanked my hands apart, wincing at the sharp pain. Ripping the metal remains from my wrist, I turned my attention to my bound feet and tore the rope apart. My wrists and ankles felt sore, but it was a hell of a lot better than being hogtied on the floor. Limping over, I put all my weight on my uninjured leg to grab the chair, wrenching it and the man back upright.

"Wait," he gasped, head swiveling to and fro, trying to find me with those unfocused eyes. "Who're you?"

"Jessica Jones, nice to finally meet you Matt Murdock, but perhaps socializing is best saved for another time when we're not stuck in this shithole," I said, unable stop that charming sarcasm from coloring my voice.

I reached for the handcuffs around his wrist, but was stopped by Matt suddenly lurching forward, tilting the whole chair with him. His hands jerked upwards, managing to grab me by the forearm, anchoring him to me while saving him from a faceplant. Even with my strength, I couldn't help but be impressed by the strength behind his grip. Especially from a blind man.

"What are you planning?"

"To bust us out," I snapped, yanking my hand out from his grip while grabbing the chair to stop him from falling. I stifled a groan when I was forced to use my injured leg to keep balance, though I still pulled the handcuffs apart.

"You're shot."

He was really starting to piss me off.

I tore off the rope and helped him up, grumbling, "Nothing I can't deal with later."

He stumbled upright, swaying on his feet with a hand pressed up to his head. It was then I realized how messed up he was. He was pale with mottle colors of purple and blue stretched across one eye. A gash stretched across the right of his face, above the hairline, the source of the blood that tried into his hair and smudged against his skin. The way he couldn't seem to stand up straight was what concerned me the most. On a normal day, it would be difficult for me to carry someone and dodge a hell storm of bullets, but my leg still hurt like a b—Wait a second.

"How the hell do you know I was shot?" I asked with a glare, getting more pissed when I realized how useless that was with a blind man.

"Gunshot isn't exactly quiet, plus," he turned to me with a smirk, the way he acted like he was staring at me with those blind eyes was a bit freaky, "I can hear you limping."

"You've got pretty good hearing."

"Not as good as it normally is," he sighed, gingerly leaning down to sit on the ground. "Still, maybe take the time for rest before charging out of here and into hell?"

"You got to be fu—"

"These people aren't going anywhere soon, I can help you take care of that leg before you decide to risk our lives escaping."

"Fuck it, fine," I grumbled sitting down next to him to peer down at my leg. There was a hole in my blood soaked jeans from where the bullet entered, a little above the knee. I tore the fabric wider, ripping off the section of the garment and leaving the rest of my leg exposed. "And how're you going to help me with this leg."

Gesturing for me to move closer, he placed careful, calloused hands against my leg, feeling the wound for a few seconds. "The bullet is still inside. May I?"

"Sure," I shrugged, watching him grab the tatter remains of my jeans, tearing to strips so he could tightly bind the leg with practiced ease. "You've done this shit before."

"I used to patch up my father when I was a kid."

"Battlin' Jack Murdock you mean?" At the way he tilted his head and lifted a brow, I added, "There were some news articles online about what happened to your old—"

"Who hired you?"

This time it was my turn to raise my brows, even though it was useless. I had a strange hunch that his questions were turning into an interrogation. Weird when I was saving his blind ass. Guess I was going to chalk that up to all the other weird shit I've been seeing on this case. Between how Foggy acted in the hospital in this too defensive Matt, I had plenty of reasons to know that these people were target for more than taking on the wrong case.

"Your friends seemed pretty worried, especially Karen."

He tightened the fabric into a knot, knuckles turning white at the mention of Karen's name. "Are they okay?"

"Foggy's under observation at Metro-General, but nothing too serious besides that," I offered, all too aware of the way his muscles tensed.

"Thank goodness," Matt murmured after a moment, releasing his hold on my makeshift bandage.

I slid my feet beneath me, standing up slowly as I tested my leg. Even though I couldn't stop the grunt from escaping, the pain was tolerable enough to suck it up until I could find real help. I leaned down and offered Matt a hand, lifting him onto two feet. He swayed, his hands once again reaching for his ears with a wince.

"We're leaving," I told him, watching him with a critical eye. "I'll try to keep it slow, but how well can you follow?"

"Bad idea, we won't be able to make it out of here," Matt added, his eyes staring somewhere towards my left ear. "This place is armed to the teeth. They'll shoot you the second they spot you."

"And why the fuck are they armed?" I growled out, folding my arms across my chest with a glare. Fuck it if I cared that he didn't see my pissed off look, it still made me feel better. There was more going on with these goddamn lawyers than I realized, shit that I was too stupid to properly research. Goddamn these hostage cases. There were plenty of warning signs and I was too damn rushed trying to find this bastard. "What the hell do they want that they'll heavily guard a blind guy like you?"

Matt Murdock was full of surprises, especially with the subtle way his body shifted into defensive. "You're clever."

"I'll take that as a compliment, that and the fact that you're not immediately trying to bullshit me like your partner. Are you going to answer my question or not?"

"There's nothing to say," the lawyer shrugged. "They're going after Daredevil and figured their best lead is the lawyers who handled the cases he had some association with."

My eyes narrowed, focusing on his face before striding forward. He didn't flinch, even though I knew he could sense how close I was, our nose nearly touching and our breaths intermingling. He tilted his head, hands moving away from his ears while his body tensed again. An imperceptible shift. Defense turning to offense, hands kept hovering by his side, fingers twitching like they sought to close into a fist. I wondered how big his muscles were if they weren't covered by that rumpled suit. Had he not been blind or swaying, my instincts would be screaming threat.

Instead I growled out, "You know there were some reports that Carl Hoffman surrendered to the cops looking like he was put through a meat grinder. I wonder if there's any connections between that and the masked asshole. Seems to me that he had more involvement than just an association, or would you disagree with that Mr. Murdock."

Head tilted, "You believe rumors, Ms. Jones?"

"Some of my best leads are rumors in my field of work. Either way, I don't give a shit if you are working with him. My job was to rescue you and find evidence to put these guys away. Seeing as the most immediate concern is getting out, I'll be working on the former." I grabbed his arms, clenching tight enough that he couldn't break free. When I tried to drag him along, he stood firm, trying and failing to shake off my hold.

"I already told you, they'll kill us if we try. The moment you step through that door, the two men out there will open fire."

"I'll fucken handle it, just do exactly as I say, okay?" I waited, tightening my grip to make sure he knew I was goddamn serious.

Finally, after a few tense seconds, "Fine."

Like pulling goddamn teeth, but at least there was some kind of cooperation. Cracking my neck and rolling my shoulders, it was time to get the fuck out.

* * *

 **AN: Feels like this one had more cursing than usual,so sorry about that. Next one will be action packed.**

 **Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! Been stressful as of late, so it really brightens my day! And thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read/favorite/follow, I really do appreciate the support.**

 **Until next time.**


	5. Chapter 5

If they wished for a fight, well they're going to have to deal with the goddamn costs.

"Stay back," I ordered the lawyer, approaching the wall next to the door.

These guards were armed to stop an escape, one they were expecting to happen from a vigilante targeting only exit point. Lifting my fist up and drawing back my arm, I glanced back one more time at Matt.

"Wait here until I come back."

Then I slammed my fist into the wall, throwing all of my strength into it and blasting the cheap drywall apart. Startled yelps greeted me when I clawed my way through to grab at the man beyond. His gun went off, peppering the walls and ceiling harmlessly before the weapon clattered to the ground. With one hand clenched into his shoulder, I yanked him closer me, using him as a shield against the other guard. With a grunt and yell, I lifted the man and threw him right at his buddy, causing both of them to fall into a jumble of limbs on the ground. The second man tryied to push off the groaning form while his fingers blindly scrambled for his gun. A few steps, one kick, and he as knocked out cold.

My leg hurt like a bitch, but I ignored it to instead grab at one of the abandoned rifle. It was while bending it beyond function that I heard the sound of what appeared to be a blind lawyer in the process of not doing what I told him. The way he stumbled through seemed more from disorientation than from his inability to see. Had I not seen those unfocused eyes, I would think he was bullshitting his blindness. Still I watched the way he moved and how he exaggerated his effort to find and pick up the gun from the floor only to smoothly remove the cartridge from the piece. There was experience in the way he disarmed that weapon.

"Didn't I tell you to wait?" I said as I marched back to Matt, yanking the gun from his hands to bend it apart.

"Yes, but I didn't find it necessary."

"Necessary my ass. In case you haven't realized, but you're going to walk your blind ass straight into some bullets if you don't do what I say."

"Don't worry about me, I can keep up."

"Not with the way you're stumbling."

"I'll manage."

"Fine," I snapped, grabbing him by the jacket. "But don't bitch if you get hurt."

Matt didn't speak, choosing to give me a nod.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, half tempted to pull out my flask for another swig. Instead, I considered out situation. If Matt was right about this place and these guys were geared up to fight a vigilante, then the best course of action would be to call for help. Someone other than Daredevil could be enough of a surprise to throw them off a bit. Calling for help it was and then we could buckle down somewhere where they either couldn't find us or couldn't break through. Or somewhere where they couldn't use their guns on us. Without their guns, I could deal with their bullshit no problems. That still left having to find a place to defend ourselves. Yeah, I'm not that lucky.

One step at a time then. Call for help, keep ourselves alive, and bust out at the first opportunity. The next question would be who to call? Cops were an option, but risky. A dirty cop would fuck us over, especially if these guys were organized and powerful enough to pay one off. The other option would be Luke, but I'm not sure if I want to drag him into this mess, even if this was his fault. Still, I didn't have a lot of time, so a call to—

"Fuck," I growled, hands searching through my pockets for my phone. Assholes must have taken it when I was still disoriented from that stupid taser. That means no backup.

Fucking great.

"What is it?"

I began to walk, catching Matt off guard at the sudden motion when I grabbed him and dragged him along, "Nothing, we're going."

"How are we getting out?"

"Stairs. There should be a fire escape down the hall."

"Bad idea, they'll have men in the streets below guarding every corner around this place."

"You got a better idea?" I snapped, stopping just short of the door and turning so that I was face to face with Matt.

I watched the odd way his head twitched side to side, eyes flickering along as if he could see beyond the building. After a few seconds of this he offered, "The roof. I doubt these guys are smart enough to fully cover it against Daredevil. They're thinking he'll come from the back alleys, not the building next over."

"You want me to jump the both of us across rooftops?" I asked with some surprise. Most people would be insane to be comfortable with a plan like that, not that I hadn't been questioning his sanity.

Matt nodded, giving me a slight smirk when he gestured to the demolished wall down the hall, "I gather you are quite capable of such feats."

"Then let's go."

I pushed through and onto the fire escape beyond, taking it slow to make sure Matt could keep up. He was unsteady with hands groping for the railing and feet knocking into the first steps, but once he got started, he climbed like it was second nature. I kept up a decent pace, climbing faster with each step until we were scaling the scaffolding at a speed that would put any normal person a little breathless. I wanted to get out quick, before they found their guard dogs knocked out in the hallway, but I couldn't deny a slight curiosity and a need to sate my hunch with some facts. Sneaking glances at Murdock revealed plenty.

Just as we were about to reach the top, I was stopped by an iron grip at my ankle. Looking down, I was met with the sight of the lawyer, one hand holding me still while his other arm wrapped around the railing as he leaned as far back as he could manage. His head was tilted, with unfocused eyes staring out to the adjacent building and ears towards the sky. Moving his head ever so slightly, he stayed silent for a few seconds longer.

"What is?" I asked, reading the tense way in which he held himself and the tightening of his fist around my ankle.

"They found out."

That's when I heard it, the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs below us. Cursing, I made to go up the last flight of stairs, however the lawyer hadn't released his hold. "Let go."

"There's a veritable army up there."

"And what happens if we go down? I'm sure that'll end well."

"No, they sent most of their firepower down there."

"How—"

"Not our main concern. Keep going and don't worry about me if you want to make it out of here. Just focus on the first opportunity of running."

The seconds that ticked by was too much of our precious little time before I finally said, "Fine."

We were moving again and I kept myself low, peeking over the edge and spotting every single one of these bastards. I saw two armed with pistols while the rest held a mismatch of crowbars and spiked bats, totally their numbers to twelve men. The more dangerously armed were too close for me to make an attempt at reaching the other building without getting one or both of our heads blown off. I needed to knock those two out, but that meant leaving the lawyer exposed. Shit.

I'm out of time. Hope I'm right about this.

I leapt forward, rushing the closest guy before he had enough time to aim and fire his weapon. Ignoring the screaming pain of my leg, I swung my arm, catching the gun with a backhand even as the guy's finger tightened around the trigger. A blast this close to the gun made me wince, but it shot into the air and gave me a good enough opening to rip the weapon from his grip. Slamming a fist into the man's chest, I sent him flying backwards before crushing the pistol into a piece of twisted metal. Another shot rang out, this time the bullet found its target by burying itself into my left shoulder and leaving me gasping.

Staggering, I used the rush of adrenaline to throw the now useless gun in the direction of my shooter. It was enough of a distraction to stop him from firing again while I rushed in and rammed my shoulder into his abdomen. A pain filled gasp was all he could do before my fist nailed him in the chest. A cracking sound signaled bones breaking as the man fell to the ground. A yell caused me to snap my head up, in time to see the next one running towards me with a crowbar held over head. My arm burned furiously, matching the pain in my leg, but I tried to force myself steady to meet this next challenger.

Out of nowhere, the broken half of a bat went flying and hit the guy in the head, knocking him out instantly. Rather than check who threw it, I focused on the four other men running straight for me, one stepping over bodies of his fallen friends. When the first of the bunch reached me, I caught the swing of his bat with my right hand, shoving it away to drop the same hand down onto his shoulder. When he didn't quite fall, I curled my fingers into his shirt and hefted him in the air, using my other hand holding him by the waistband of his jeans to steady his weight. Unable to stop the shout at the protest of my shoulder, I tossed him at his other two buddies.

They all fell down like bowling pins, and the fourth man stumbling on top of the mess of limbs when he couldn't quite get out of the way, giving me a small respite. A little ways away I spotted the lawyer, hunched over and swaying more than ever as he faced another just as fatigue man. At their feet were two other men while the rest of the thugs watched me with wary and calculating glances. When Murdock jumped into a spin, using the momentum to kick his opponent in the temple, I knew it was time to go. By the way they were starting to hang back, these guys were just wasting time for the rest of their friends to join them. Fuck sticking around.

I launched myself away, gritting my teeth against the pain as I grabbed Matt and wrapped my injured arm around his waist as he wrapped his around my neck. Breathing heavy against my ear, I didn't care to warn him or give him a chance to talk before I threw the both of us off the nearest edge of the roof, shots ringing out after us from two who finally reached the top of the fire escape. We were lucky to have avoided more injury, but not enough for the neighboring building to be close enough for a smooth landing.

Instead, I slammed into the wall, the upper half of my body bending over the edge, My right arm shot out, scrambling for purchase as we slid off, catching the small lip of the roof. This time I screamed, my injured shoulder felt like it was on fire as I hefted Murdock and allowed him to heave himself up. Once safe, he turned around to offer a hand, pulling me up with a groan of his own before falling to the ground next to me. Together we laid still, trying to gain our breaths.

More shots sailed above us.

Shit," I growled as the both of us pressed down flat.

"We need to keep going," Matt panted next to me, already crawling forward. "Think you have enough in you for a few more blocks?"

"Fuck no, but I don't have much of a choice do I."

"Unfortunately, but if we get out of here, I know someone who can take a look at those injuries of yours."

"Okay, right, let's get this over with. Don't fall behind," I snapped as I bent my knee and flattened my foot to the ground.

"That's a nice thing to say to a blind guy."

"Yeah, and we already established I'm not an idiot, so don't waste my goddamn time telling me your disability is actually affecting you. Ready?"

"Yeah."

Then we sprinted forward, more gunshots erupting when popped into view. Good thing they couldn't seem to get in a good shot, because I already felt like hell. Plus, with how long it was taking for anyone to show up here, they were taking the long way over. By the time we reached the other side, those assholes already gave up on trying to kill us.

I considered the distance between us and the next building, not happy about the gap but thankful that it was not as wide as the previous one I jumped. Grabbing Matt, I launched us over again, the landing far better when I wasn't in as much of a hurry.

After a few more rooftops, right as bone deep exhaustion began to settle, Matt stopped. I watched the way his head twitch to the side for a second as his breathing began to slow. In a low tone, as if he was afraid of being over heard, he said, "I think we lost them."

"Finally," I sighed, too tired to care about his freakish ability to know this crap. "So how about this friend of yours. Do we need to go somewhere specific to meet with them?"

Matt shook his head, swiping a hand through his sweat and blood soaked hair. "No, she'll be upset if we try to reach her at her work or home."

"Then we'll go to my place and call her."

"You sure it's a good to potentially lead these people to where you live?"

"No, but can't think of any other place. They know enough about you to know where you drink, I wouldn't be surprise if they knew where you live. And personally, after a night like this, I can use a drink."

* * *

I sat in my chair, doing my best to avoid looking at my bandaged leg while leaving my arm limp and resting against my lap. My other hand was busy tipping a bottle of Jim Beam against my lips. Alcohol did wonders to dull the pain, it would do for now until this nurse friend of Murdock's finally got here and checked out the newly made, unwanted holes in my shoulder and thigh. To the side, sitting on the couch with his head leaned back and eyes closed was Murdock, who had been quiet since we first got back to my place. By the way he sat there, I could tell he was waiting for my questions about tonight. More specifically, how he managed to fight and keep up with me without something as important as sight. A slight knock brought my attention to my door.

Really, I shouldn't be surprised. Not with all these puzzle pieces falling perfectly in place. Still, while shocking, I couldn't deny that the sight of Claire's displeased face was a welcoming one.

"This is an interesting development," the nurse noted after I beckoned her to step inside. Standing before my desk, she shifted her duffle back and crossed her arms. By the scrubs she still wore and the darkened skin beneath her eyes, she appeared to have just left her shift at the hospital. "It's always something new with you, isn't it?"

Matt directed his blank stare towards her as he said, "I appreciate it really."

"I'm sure you do," I interjected, receiving both their attention. Leaning back in my chair, swinging my legs up to cross them on top of my desk, I ignored the pain in favor of my best no-fucks-given smirk. "I mean, the personal nurse of the Daredevil is likely to have seen some crazy shit."

"You figured it out." There was a distinct lack of shock in his voice. Damn, that wasn't as satisfying as I was hoping it would be.

"Seemed simple to figure out seeing some of the shit you did tonight. Claire here only confirmed it all. What was that you mentioned to me last time I saw you, about a certain friend of yours?"

"You two met before?"

"Briefly," Claire answered this time as she began to help Matt out of the tattered remains of his suit. "She and a friend of hers needed help and it seems I'm the only one who attracts you type of people. What's wrong with you?"

She caught onto the way I winced when I moved my leg off the desk and set the bottle down. However, Matt beat me to the answer. "She was shot twice. You should check her out first, she's in worst shape."

"Like hell I am. You were the hostage, not me."

The nurse shook her head as she turned her attention towards me, exasperation coloring her voice as she muttered, "Christ."

I reached for the phone, not caring about the grumbling from Claire as she tried to inspect my wounds. With the hostage situation solved, I knew there was one person who would be happy to hear the news. No one commented when I slid a folder out from the desk drawer, read the number written on one of the pages, and began to dial. By the way Murdock turned his head, I had a sneaking suspicion that he would be able to overhear my conversation. As for Claire, she kept focused on my leg, armed with a forceps and a challenge in her eye that dared me to complain. I lifted a hand for her to wait, mostly so I didn't have to divide my attention between a conversation with Karen and not cursing in pain from having a bullet dug out.

A click signaled Karen finally picked up, but the silence on the other line left me confused. Looking towards Murdock and noticing the furrowing of his brow, I decided to go simple. "Hello, Karen?"

No answer.

"Karen, you there? Are you okay, hello?"

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the little miss sweetheart. It's so good to hear from you again!"

I shot upright, focused on the man I least expected to answer my call. "What the hell you do to her?"

"Nothing so far, which really is quite generous. I don't like people poking into my business, Ms. Jones, and while I tolerated your earlier snooping, I only allowed it for a purpose. Ms. Page here really should have kept her nose where it doesn't belong, much more painless for her that way."

Fingers dug into my desk, cracking the wood beneath as I snarled out, "Let. Her. Go."

"No, I have a much better use for her. See I don't know how you shitheads managed to escape, but I doubt you did so without outside help. If you happen to be with our devil friend, I suggest you let him know he has until midnight tomorrow to meet me at the warehouse where he fucked up my brother."

"And if I don't know the guy?"

"Well, we'll see how many of my buddies sweet Karen here could service before she's nothing but a corpse. Then we'll have a round with those lawyers and you until Daredevil decides to spoil the fun."

With that, he hung up, leaving behind a deafening silence.

"Damnit," Matt growled, slamming his fist into the couch.

For once, I agreed with him.

* * *

 **AN: Thank you to everyone who read/favorite/followed/reviewed.**

 **Until next chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

The best thing about my line of work was the lesson in prudence and patience. Important traits when dealing with my target after all waiting brings victory. The way Matt's fist relaxed in contradiction to the hard edge that glinted from his eyes, I knew I was dealing with a man well used to such patience. That night, they called for war and they goddamn better prepare for when we come for them. As far as I'm concerned, they were fucked.

Night, almost a full twenty-four hours since Karen's capture, and here we were keeping vigil. The warehouse in question was dark, masquerading as a shell of a building that had degraded through its years of disuse. Perfect for those bastards who sold their victims like cattle to slaughter. I may not want to do all this hero business, but fuck does the idea of knocking some heads around was satisfying as hell.

From the alleyway, leaning against the side of another building, I watched the lone figure walk towards the nearest door. Must admit, that outfit wasn't what I was expecting. I thought it was going to be something as tacky as the American flag splashed across his chest and while the horns were ridiculous, the rest was far from it. The red and black suited him, perfectly fitted and doing more than dress him up as a devil in the night. When he had first shown up, I noticed the thickness of the pieces, each one shaped and designed to protect his vitals. In his line of work, I wouldn't be surprised if that armor was the difference between beaten criminals left to the cops and a certain lawyer in a dumpster bleeding like a stuck pig.

In front of me, leaning against the opposite walls, was Luke. He watched as well, waiting until after Murdock slipped inside. With someone as paranoid as Matt seemed to be, I forced him to accept help from Luke. According to Claire, there was trauma that affected his inner ear leading to a sense of vertigo, hence the constant swaying. While gunshot wounds were quick to heal with my freakish power, Daredevil was far too normal to do the same. This was dangerous enough, no need to run in like a dumbass without some sort of plan.

"Can't believe you were able to find the guy," Luke whispered.

"Well, he owed these people a bit of help," I told him. I moved slowly from my hiding spot with Luke keeping close behind.

We skirted around the building, keeping to the shadows and approached one side of the warehouse. Glancing up, I caught sight of a window left tilted open and forgotten by people who didn't think it to be a viable entrance. Calculating the distance and nodding to Luke, I kicked hard from the ground and launched myself into the air. At the apex of my jump, I shot an arm out and clutched at the bottom edge of the window. Grunting at the strain in my shoulder, healed but still sore, I reached up and pushed the window further open, taking care to go slowly as to keep quiet. Once open, I dropped my other arm with hand held out. Below, Luke jumped as well, catching my hand while using his other arm to grab ahold of the window sill. Hanging on, I hefted myself up, keeping ducked and inched carefully onto the support beam beyond, Luke right at my heel.

Crossing over a few beams, we eventually spotted the main stage of one twisted douchebag. Daredevil stood there, back straight and head directed at Dimitri fuckwad Christos, surrounded by dozens of his lackeys. Each one were armed with guns of all kinds—rifles, sawed-off shotguns, pistols—all of them cocked and aimed at the vigilante. It made our plan risky, but not more than expected. Dealing with the scum of Hell's Kitchen, it was something we were all experienced in.

I gestured Luke towards the section above Daredevil while I made for the one above these bastards, moving as quickly as I could managed without making too much noise. Bellow, Matt stalked forward, hands twitching for the clubs strapped to his thigh. I didn't blame him, not when I wanted to crack Dimitri's skull open when he dragged Karen into view by her hair. Blue bruises colored the skin around her eye, her lip split, and she stumbled forward to fall at Dimitri's feet. It was when he kicked her that Matt finally drew his clubs, keeping one in each fist as his body tensed for a fight. With a quick glanced, I checked to make sure Luke was in place, sharing a nod as we both kept crouched and ready.

Dimitri threw his head back in a laugh, the sound bouncing around the empty warehouse as his men shared in his mirth. Armed and deadly, there was no way Daredevil would be stupid enough to attack. So it was with shock on their faces when one of the clubs slammed into Dimitri's head, cutting his laughter short as he fell to the ground, like a puppet whose strings were cut. Silence descended in those short seconds after the douche bag fell, his men taking a moment to comprehend what had happened before they reacted with shouts of anger, lifting their guns while fingers squeezed around the trigger. However, those precious seconds was all we needed.

Taking a step forward, I fell straight for the ground, catching sight of Luke as he did the same and dropped in front of Matt, body intercepting in time to protect the vigilante from the spray of bullets. When I landed, I knocked down one of the gun men before swinging my fist into several more. A few more left unconscious, I then launched myself forward, pushing back more of these assholes to reach Karen, who sat there eyes wide with fear and confusion. I could only hope that fear was from the eruption of shooting and not from a bloody mess were I last saw Matt. No time to check. The most vulnerable was Karen, and it was agreed on that I get her out as fast as possible before worrying about the other two. I just hoped that everything went smoothly.

Giving out a shout, Karen fought back when she felt me grab her arms. She put up a decent fight, against a normal human she would have escaped, but I was able to loop my arm around her chest while slamming my other fist against another man. Once secured in my arms, I sent us backwards with a short hop, separating from the group before jumping the both of us into the air. She yelped, her scream cut off by the sudden rush. Luckily, everyone was too busy fighting to noticed and I easily grabbed ahold of the beam above, hefting the both of us over and on top. When I was sure she was balanced on the beam, I released her, allowing her to turn around and look at me.

"W-What?" She gasped out, surprised to see me.

I motioned her to keep quiet as I whispered, "Get out of here by that window and wait. I'll get you when things calms down."

Crazy girl hesitated, as if she thought she could actually help in the shit storm raging below. But when she nodded, I took it as my cue to return my attention to the fight, relieved to see our initial plan worked.

Luke, with the bulk of his body, bulldozed through the gang members as Daredevil kept close. Moving around Luke, Matt used him as a shield against the bullets coming his way, flipping in and out of combat with ease. On occasion he would stumble, but Luke made sure none took advantage. Maneuvering closer, I found a good spot to jump down on top of another person, kicking him in the stomach and then the head to knock him out.

There were a lot of them, but with the three of us, we made short work of them. It wasn't long before they were left as a groaning pile of bodies, guns scattered uselessly across the ground. Turning to Luke and Matt, I gave them satisfied smile. Luke was fine but Matt appeared unsteady, swaying in place though his head was kept cocked to the side, his jaw tense, but he remained quiet. If another asshole showed, I'm sure he would warn us. For now I needed to go through the unconscious pile for Dimitri. I was still on a job and I'm sure Dimitri would provide all the answer I need to get the rest of these guys in the slammer. Now where the fuck was he—

Matt gave off a warning shout while throwing one his clubs forward. I watched the weapon fly, missing its target by a hairs breadth though it did bring out a flinch.

"How about you assholes just stay right there, huh?"

I straightened up, meeting Luke's eyes for a second before we both watched Dimitri with a wary glare. Where the fuck did her get a rocket launcher was beyond me, but memories of an incident involving a shotgun made me hesitant in thinking Luke could handle a hit from that. Beside him Matt shifted his weight, trying and failing to find his balance as he focused on the enemy. Fuck, he was still recovering from all the shit from yesterday and without Luke to safely shield him, the vigilante wasn't going to be able to get in close.

"Now that I got your attention, how about you two fucks go on your merry way while I take care of your little devil friend there."

"Fu—"

"What do you want from me?" Daredevil growled, interrupting my insult.

"Is that really a goddamn question? You fucked up our organization."

"That's not your only reason."

Dimitri smirked, "Heh, guess it's hard not to care when there's a nice bounty on your head. Congratulations, you managed to piss off a bastard with deep pockets, what a goddamn shock. Figure, with the money I can make off you, I can easily rebuild my business. The added reputation of offing the Devil of Hell's Kitchen ain't bad either."

"You piece of shit," I snapped, shifting forward but stopped when Dimitri pointed his weapon at me.

"Back off bitch and learn to stay out of other people's business," he snapped, finger curling around the trigger.

I smiled, stupid fuck.

All that talk and the shit head was too distracted to notice when a certain blonde had grabbed a piece of wood and smashed it across his head. The launcher clattered to the ground as Dimitri yelped in pain, holding the back of his head. Spewing out a string of profanities, he wasn't given a chance to do anything else when I launched myself across to land a punch into his gut. He dropped from that hit, falling to his knees and too busy groaning to stop me from taking a hold of him by his hair.

"The cops are going to have a shit ton of fun with you," I sneered, half tempted to give him another kick but instead tossed him behind me towards Luke as he approached. The bigger man grabbed Dimitri by the shoulder and used his other hand to pin douchebag's arm to his back. When the tool bag squirmed, Luke yanked his arm up, getting a yelp. "You two go ahead and take him in, I'll make sure Karen gets home."

"Gladly," Luke smirked as he frog-marched Dimitri towards the exit.

Daredevil stood back, keeping in the shadows, hesitating to get any closer.

I ignored him and focused on the pale girl in front of me. Roughed up the way she was, I wasn't expecting a refusal when I said, "Let's get you home."

"W-What about Matt?" She asked, wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to stop her shaking. As impressive as this girl was in stubbornness and lack of self-preservation, it seemed she had reached her limit.

"Safe," I said, offering her a small, tired smile. "Since yesterday, actually. It's why I usually tell client to keep out of this shit. Now, come on, I'm sure he's worried for you."

Her arms tightened, but she nodded, letting me guide her towards the exit after Luke. Glancing back, I spotted Murdock give me a nod as he too disappeared from sight.

* * *

The night was young, but not enough to stop the scum from crawling out. I leaned against the railing of fire escape, like a home away from home with one arm draped over holding my flask while the other held my camera. This guy was far too easy to track down and I'm going to have some good pictures for his poor missus. A few more would do it too. Easy money.

"Interesting use of your skills."

"Yeah, well, I'm not into dressing up and jumping across rooftops," I muttered, taking a few shots before asking, "What do you want?"

"I wanted to thank you for what you did."

I shrugged, putting away my camera in my bag as I said, "Karen hired me. I was only doing my job."

"Still, thank you."

Straightening up, I took a good look at him. He was dressed in his Daredevil suit, crouching on the steps with arms resting on his knees. His head was directed towards her, though she knew it was act and not him actually seeing her. I leaned back against the railing, crossing my arms as I considered the vigilante.

"How're you feeling?"

"Better, though both Foggy and Claire preferred I take a longer break."

"They have a point."

Matt stood up straight, head turning to some unknown noise before he turned back to me and said, "Anyways, I need to go but if you ever need help, legal or otherwise, feel free to call me."

"I'm usually covered in the legal end, but I'll keep that in mind. Just keep yourself safe, I don't want Karen back in my office asking for more help. This hero business isn't my thing."

He chuckled, giving me a small nod before he turned around and disappeared towards the roof. I stood there, trying to listen for the sound of his movement, but getting only city noise.

Descending the fire escape, I landed onto the sidewalk and joined the endless stream of people. Heroes were crazy, but fuck me I couldn't deny the enjoyment I had from the experience in the warehouse. It was still horrible, not knowing if Karen was going to share the same shitty fate as Hope or if I was going to get a bullet through my skull. Still, there was satisfaction from actually saving people and completing my case without a single casualty. Maybe I should rethink this whole superhero shit.

I snorted.

Fuck that. I still couldn't imagine myself running around the city in a stupid white leotard calling myself some unimaginative name. Leave that for the insane people who actually enjoyed that type of shit, like Murdock. I'll stick to my normal cases. That was how I helped people

Besides, maybe one day my job would have me working with Nelson and Murdock. It wasn't beyond the realm of imagination, law practices and private investigation weren't too dissimilar. I wouldn't mind dipping into the world of heroism on occasion.

And, damn, did we make a good team.

* * *

 **AN: Well that's the end of this story. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. I hope you guys enjoyed the ending, as quick as it was. I couldn't imagine anything crazy with them honestly, mostly cause in reality they were small fry who happened to get lucky.**

 **Anyways, I will be doing my best this time to responding to reviews. I know that these last couple of years I haven't responded to them and that's something I feel horrible for not doing. It's a bad mix of being busy and social anxiety (even with anonymity). It's something I want to work on because if you folks put the time into actually reviewing, I should put the effort in responding back. It's only fair. So from this point onward I will be responding to my reviews (including my other works on this site).**

 **Speaking of my other works, for those who follow my Merlin fics, I am writing for my two unfinished stories. Rebirth is first cause its easier to pick up from (only two chapters on here to reread and edit). I actually finished writing chapter 3 couple days ago and will post once it and chapter 2 are edited (chapter 1 has been reedited a week ago).**

 **Once all unfinished works are completed, I won't be starting any new projects beyond one-shots or short stories with short chapters (like Just This Once). This is because I've been working on one of my bucket list goals, which is to write and publish my own original story. I've actually completed 1 and 2/3rds of a trilogy I've been working on since last year October. It's an idea that has been on my mind for years, and has since evolved from when I started writing it. I put so much of my effort and resources on it, and unlike my previous attempts of an original story, this is one I've grown so attached and invested. Even when I needed a break from it and wrote this fic, I still went back and worked on it off and on. I'm proud of what it's becoming and excited to see my notes on its future come to fruition. I just wanted to let you guys know more of why it would take me longer to update or post nowadays, especially those who so patiently waited for my Merlin ones.**

 **I had fun, weird as it was writing from first person POV. It was a great experience.**

 **Thank again to everyone who read this story! :)  
**


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